Written

Chapter 47

It is the longest two days of my life. I go back to the hotel that night and do nothing. Literally nothing. I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling, trying not to even think. I do not call Hayley, though I want so badly to hear her voice. A true testament to my selfishness, I want her to comfort me in my grief. But a testament to my love for her, I don't call. I let her grieve her own way, knowing that whatever I can bring myself to say to her must be said face to face.

Zayn enters my room and crawls into the bed next to me, joining in my silence. He knows that I don't want to talk. At first, I don't want him to be there at all, but I later find comfort in the companionable silence. Surprisingly, I am the one to break it.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I don't know," Zayn sighs. "I heard voices in the hallway late last night, too late. I opened the door to see what was going on but Hayley was already gone and Paul said something about her brother." He hesitates for a moment, collecting himself, then continues. "He didn't answer when I called his phone."

And I want to say something. I want to comfort Zayn because I knew he knew Ryan, I want to comfort myself because I knew him, I want to comfort Hayley most of all because she loved him more than anyone else. But I can't. I feel so fucking useless as I stare at the white of the hotel ceiling.

"I'm sorry," I manage to choke out.

"Me too, man," Zayn breathes. "Me too."

HAYLEY

The last time I was on a plane was coming home from London with Harry. I was right. Flying high above the earth, it is easy to believe that you might never have been on the ground. From this distance, I wouldn't notice a single person's absence in the world. Such tiny, insignificant creatures we are. And such a cruel world we live in.

My thoughts find Ryan, again, the way they have ever since my phone rang at 2:07 a.m. I wish that I could stay in this plane forever, because then I might never have to notice his absence. I might never have to remember the fact he ever existed at all.

HARRY

The second Madison Square Garden show goes by blessedly faster than the last one. My arrangements have been made in advance, so when I rocket off the stage Paul has to slow me down for a moment. He warns me not to be reckless, not to do anything stupid. I am about to turn down the hallway that will take me to the car when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to see Louis standing there, an intense look on his face.

"Be safe, Harry," he says. "And tell Hayley that we love her." I nod, and Louis chokes up. "Tell her that we're sorry," he continues. I am stunned by the tears in his eyes, if I am good at hiding emotion, Louis is the master. Before I know what is happening, Louis crushes me to his chest. His delicate arms seem stronger than I could have imagined as I feel him crying, crying into my neck. I feel my own eyes betray me as I cling to my best friend. I don't know what this is, this moment. It is grief and it is love and it is acceptance, all in one. Louis understands, in a way that no one else does.

"Thank you," I breathe.

"I love you, man," Louis says, pulling away. "We all do, okay? Don't ever forget that. Life is too short." He runs a hand over his lightly shadowed chin and then lets me go.

...

After the longest flight of my life and an unbearably slow traffic jam, I find myself in the exact same position that I was in a month or so ago. Sitting outside Hayley's childhood home in Atlanta, in a rental car, wondering if I should have even come in the first place. And just like then, I push aside my nausea and open the car door. Last time, I didn't know what I would say. This time, I don't know a damn thing. I don't know if Hayley will answer the door or if she will even be here. I don't know if I will cry or if I even should, or if I should play strong. I have never been more confused as I raise my fist and knock on the wooden door.

There is no answer. It is dusk, twilight, not quite nightfall. Lights are on in the house, but no one comes. I knock a little louder this time, and hear a faint "come in" that sounds like it could have been Hayley's mother. I enter the house and it is different from the last time I was here. I am momentarily confused, sure that I have imagined the wall on my right. It was not there before, there is a whole separate room built that was not there before. I walk farther into the house and turn towards the kitchen. It is eerily quiet, uncomfortable. No one is anywhere to be seen. I backtrack to the room which is a new addition to the house; this must be the answer to the mystery at hand. I knock softly and turn the knob, not expecting what lies beyond.

My eyes find Hayley immediately. She is curled up, asleep on a tiny couch, cocooned in a thick blanket. She is fast asleep, breathing deeply and momentarily at peace. I teased her once for the way that she sleeps so hard, but for once I am grateful. She needs the distraction from the loss of... her brother is the person I see next. For a moment I feel the earth spin beneath me, because I know Ryan Reid to be dead. Soon enough I get a grip on myself, realizing that no one ever said the words. No one could clarify or specify exactly what had happened, so we had all just assumed the worst.

Ryan is in bad shape. Clearly not dead, but dying. He is hooked up to three machines that I can see and I suspect that there are more out of sight. His eyes are half open and I cannot tell if he is conscious, but the slow rise and fall of his chest indicates that there is some life left in him.

How did this happen? I knew that sick people could change suddenly, but I couldn't believe it was this suddenly. It had been only a few short months since I had seen Ryan, and he was strong and healthy then. Standing over him now, I see a shell of the man he used to be. It is sickening and heartbreaking and I don't know whether to vomit or cry. My decision is interrupted by a groggy voice.

"Harry?" It comes out so slow and soft. When I turn around, Hayley is half sitting up on the couch, her hair sticking to her face and her expression one of such intense confusion that it is almost comical. This is it, the moment where I say something brilliant. It becomes clear that that won't be happening as soon as I open my mouth, unable to form words. I need to at least explain what I am doing here. I try again for the words, but the only sound that comes out of my throat is a guttural, twisted moan as I choke back tears. What has happened to us, that we came to be here? In this room, in this moment, separated by so much more than a few feet of carpet. Hayley only looks at me and I look at her and neither of speak, neither of us move or even breathe. She is waiting on my moment of brilliance, I know it. And it never comes. I just stand there, awkwardly stand there holding back tears and saying nothing because there is nothing to say.

Hayley closes her eyes and lays back down, turning her face away from me. This hurts more than if she had yelled, because I know her to be a fighter. She would have stared me down until I spoke, and if I never did she would demand it. The moment she decided to just go back to sleep, to deal with it later, was the moment I realized that Hayley was lost. Maybe for good. Maybe she would never come back to me.

And as much as the thought stings, it is not the strongest pain that I feel. I cannot pinpoint the strongest, but all the pain seems to combine in my chest. Losing Ryan, dealing with the confusing pain of not even knowing Ryan enough to have a claim to losing him, then realizing that he is not yet lost, then realizing that he soon will be and I will lose him all over again. Losing Hayley in what appears to be more ways than just one. Losing myself, in the years since I began this journey. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know who they are, either. None of us knows each other and none of us knows ourselves.

I have literally no idea what to do. I cannot go to Hayley, no matter how bad I might want to. I won't believe that she is so far gone that she wouldn't vigorously kick my ass for crossing a line. I almost smile at the thought. So I get as close to her as possible. Night has barely fallen but I drop to the floor next to the couch, next to Hayley. We are a considerable distance apart, but she could still reach out and touch me if she wanted. I hope that she does.

I am so tired. Mentally and physically drained, and still not knowing what the fuck is even going on. I don't know what will happen when I wake up. Hayley will scream at me or cry or something worse. Or maybe she won't even care. Maybe she really has lost herself, maybe she won't feel enough to care.

Confused, exhausted, and terrified of all my options, I fall asleep not knowing what awaits me when my eyes next open.